


Day 1 - Romo

by redtoes



Category: Battlestar Galactica, Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Gen, Post-Daybreak, Post-Series, Starting over on Earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 14:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redtoes/pseuds/redtoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romo Lampkin reflects on Earth</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 1 - Romo

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first of a series of ideas I had for post-Daybreak vignettes. However, as with everything else I never got around to writing the rest. So, finding this in my files, I thought I might as well just post this one.
> 
> I own nothing. It's all Ronald D Moore's fault.

Despite Lee Adama’s pronouncement about small groups and starting over, most of the communities created by their prolonged voyage stay together.  
  
The smaller ships with numbers in the dozens rather than the hundreds have already formed bonds, the breaking of which is seen by those involved as a bereavement as bad as the destruction of the colonies.  Besides, most of the people who made up the wandering Colonials were either those rich enough to afford FTL travel and therefore originally city-based, or nomads who travelled the inter-planetary routes by choice or profession.  
  
Neither group is going to be able to immediately adapt to planet life, no matter how green and pleasant.  
  
And it is green and pleasant.  That first afternoon, Lampkin revels in the feel of grass under his fingers, green shoots reaching towards a blue sky, untouched, until now, by human hand.  Or at least by Colonial human hand.  
  
He thinks his wife would have liked this green and blue planet.  He knows his daughters would.  
  
A short distance away former-Admiral Hoshi hovers, nervously answering the questions of the first group of newly-landed Colonials.  He’s a hesitant man, obviously a follower rather than a leader and while Lampkin does not doubt his loyalty or honour he thinks Hoshi would have been a disaster as anything more than an interim leader.  He thinks Hoshi knows this himself. He doesn’t judge.  
  
Jake bounds up to him having found a stick from somewhere.  Idly Lampkin ruffles his fur as the dog slobbers against his knee.  
  
Lee Adama is not wrong, he thinks.  A city here in this verdant plain would be a desecration.  Too much like New Caprica, yet another attempt to recreate their lost past.  Let the dead lie.  
  
But Lee Adama is also not right.  Lampkin can see that with the people who are questioning Hoshi.  Five years of reliance on the military for defence and the fleet for sustenance have left people co-dependent and nervous.  People, after all, are only truly worthy as individuals, people as a group are better termed a mob.  That is why there is law – so that mob rule will not prevail.  
  
Justice.  
  
The beauty of it.  The purity.  
  
Romo Lampkin would not know where to begin with the growing of food or the rearing on animals.  He’s never built a house.  Never dug a well.  
  
He’s not alone in this.  
  
New Caprica was a cold world, inhospitable, with but a small stretch of habitable land around the equator.  This new plant, this new Earth, is lush – there’s no restrictions on where people can settle.  Some parts of the fleet are already staking claims.  Others quail at the prospect.  
  
They’ll need lawyers in this brave new world when the property borders have to be sorted out.  
  
Jake’s snout is pushing insistently at his knee now and Hoshi is looking ever more uncertain.  With a sigh Lampkin hauls himself to his feet.  
  
Taking the opportunity to throw the stick for Jake in the opposite direction, he ambles toward the small crowd of people surrounding the former Admiral.  
  
After all, Lee Adama can say whatever he wants to about new beginnings and fresh starts, but if they want civilisation, they can’t throw the baby out with the bathwater.


End file.
